Ruth King's Blog

Beneath the headlines and habits, beneath the conditioned clamor of race and place, there is a quieter truth—steady, wise, and waiting.

In a world flooded with noise and urgency, it takes courage to pause—to turn inward, to listen beneath the surface of our socialization and stories. When we do, we often find that beneath the inherited roles and reactions, there is a wellspring of clarity. There is a deeper knowing—one not defined by division, but shaped by our shared humanity.

Beneath the Noise is an invitation to dwell in that knowing. To rest in the quiet honesty of the body. To honor the emotional labor of racial awareness and the wisdom that arises through contemplative inquiry. Here, we listen not to fix, but to feel; not to escape, but to engage more fully—with tenderness, truth, and transformative care.

Going forth, my reflections, blogs, and news will be homed here as I shift from the commercial focus of many social platforms to Substack where posts appear more thoughtful and forward leading.

Subscribe here - It's Freely Offered: https://ruthking108.substack.com/

May these reflections remind us that healing is not a destination, but a path we walk together—one breath, one reckoning, one offering at a time.

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Born 1871, Laura Wood, an African American woman, was 59 when she was lynched in Rowan County, NC, on February 11, 1930. Rowan County is roughly 37 miles from where I live today. 

Laura Wood was a farmer, wife, and mother of four adult children. Her husband, Neal Wood, said, “…She left home to help with laundering at a nearby house but did not show up.” She was found hanging from a tree by a plow chair. She was hanged after being rendered unconscious. She was accused of stealing two hams and quarreling with a white woman. Laura Wood would have been the age of my great grandmother. 

The brutal practice of racial terror lynching claimed the lives of countless African Americans, leaving behind a legacy of fear and injustice that echoes into the present. After slavery was abolished, many white individuals clung to racial dominance, using violence and terror to suppress Black communities and preserve systems of oppression. Lynching became a widespread and horrifying tool of control, often with the complicity—or even active support—of law enforcement and public officials. 

White mobs frequently committed acts of extreme violence without consequence. In many instances, law enforcement failed to protect Black individuals, handing them over to mobs or allowing them to be taken from jails. These lynchings often involved heinous acts like burning and mutilation, carried out in front of large crowds. 

Although many victims remain unnamed and unrecorded, roughly 120 racial terror lynchings have been documented in North Carolina between 1877 and 1950. It is uncertain how many of these lynchings were women. But we do know this: Nation-wide racial terror lynchings were not merely acts of retaliation or attempts at so-called “popular justice” for alleged crimes. Instead, they served a larger purpose: to assert dominance and spread fear throughout the African American community. While newspapers initially suggested that criminal charges would result from the investigation into Laura Wood’s lynching, historical records show no evidence that anyone was ever arrested for her murder. 

This history is not a secret, but is easily forgotten, rationalized, or minimized. Yet its karmic seeds continue to sprout in our collective consciousness. 

The lynching of Laura Wood in 1930 is not just a tragedy of the past; it holds profound relevance for us today. For example, I’m still haunted by Sandra Bland, a 28-year old African American woman who on July 10, 2015, was pulled over then arrested in Texas by a white State Trooper, 30-year old Brian Encinia, for her failure to signal a lane change. Her arrest photos showed significant facial bruising, and on July 13, three days later, she was found hanged in a Waller County jail cell. Today, we see unchecked abuse of power in our political climate where figures like Donald Trump and many of his appointees have actively undermined justice and accountability. Policies and rhetoric that marginalize communities of color, suppress voices, and embolden white supremacist ideologies and violence serve as modern manifestations of the racial dominance and impunity that allowed Laura Wood’s and too many others’ lynchings to occur. 

This lack of accountability in leadership perpetuates systems of greed, hatred, and confusion, making it all the more important to confront our nation’s history of racial terror. By remembering individuals like Laura Wood and recognizing the failures of justice—both then and now—we can better understand the urgency to transform oppressive systems and foster a society rooted in equity, compassion, and accountability. What role can you play in contributing to racial justice and harmony? 

Racism is a heart disease, and it’s curable.

 

Learn more: Mindful of Race Online Academy. 

NOTE: In 2021, a memorial marker for Ms. Wood and 5 others lynched in Rowan County, NC  between 1902 and 1930, was erected by Actions in Faith & Justice and the Equal Justice Initiative.

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My life’s work is educating on transforming systemic racism through racial awareness amidst overt racist acts, often within grief, and at times, on top of burnout. I often ask myself: What keeps us sitting up straignt with a strong core despite our circumstances? Poet and songstress Andra Day sings in Rise Up: 

You're broken down and tired
Of living life on a merry go round
And you can't find the fighter
But I see it in you so we gonna walk it out
And move mountains
We gonna walk it out
And move mountains

At this time in our nation and throughout the world, we are experiencing a stark blow to our understanding of humanity. Many of us are tired, angry, and hopeless. It makes sense that we would feel the collective weight of hurt from greed, racial exploitation, and ill-will - it's not intellectual. We're connected and, like it or not, we share a global nervous system. We feel and our bodies absorbs. We're tender and we care about what happens in the world, despite our, at times, ineffectual expression. Day continues:

When the silence isn't quiet
And it feels like it's getting hard to breathe
And I know you feel like dying
But I promise we'll take the world to its feet
And move mountains
Bring it to its feet
And move mountains

There are times when we can rest and attend to grieving. We might be able, for example, to tenderly shift our attention away from the truth of the horrific occurrence and give priority to the pain we are experiencing, and the movement of pain through the body. We may then notice when the intensity of dread and grief lessens, and begin to rest in the warm sogginess of our own good hearts. This is our practice. It’s not simple, just necessary, an antidote to pushing when we are literally rocked to our knees. It's also helpful to remember why we practice - not just for ourselves, but for so many beings in need of relief. Sistah Day continues as the prayer that she is:

And I'll rise up
I'll rise like the day
I'll rise up
I'll rise unafraid
I'll rise up
And I'll do it a thousand times again
And I'll rise up
High like the waves
I'll rise up
In spite of the ache
I'll rise up
And I'll do it a thousand times againFor you
For you
For you
For you

When we practice for the benefit for all, without exception, the weight of grief is lessoned. In stillness, we touch a human nerve that we all share, and we surrender to a global and even invisible vibrant sangha of practitioners, ancestors, and healers sitting in prayer for our collective liberation. Day's prayer continues:

All we need, all we need is hope
And for that we have each other
And for that we have each other
And we will rise
We will rise
We'll rise, oh, oh
We'll rise

Practice Freedom!

Taking care of ourselves is not a luxury; self-care is how we heal and how we ripen our inner capacity to respond wisely to the world. Self-care is often not our first instinct, but we can learn to experience our resilience as we rest by opening our awareness to feel, from the inside, the strength in our legs, the muscle in our heart, and the power of our backbone to literally lift ourselves up. Staying close to the movement of our breath and allowing our tears to flow freely also helps. Beloved Ancestor Toni Morrison writes in A Mercy:

You don’t need to try and make it all go away. It shouldn’t go away…and I’m not going to hide from what’s true just because it hurts.

We must think collectively and historically to understand and appreciate our gifts - a practice of remembering: Remembering the present moment, again and again. Remembering that we’re not dead yet, and at this moment, we can breathe. Remembering our ancestors, wisdom teachings, elders, and our own fine mind. Reflect: What messages have your ancestors, wise elders, and poets imparted to you that support your daily practice of wisdom and kindness? What messages of comfort and wisdom will you share with elders, children, and grieving families near and far? Offering kindness to yourself and others is an antidote to grief.

We also must remember to have faith. We are vulnerable. Anything can happen to us at any time, but we need not be victims. The Buddha shares of freedom in the Four Noble Truths that:

Suffering is to be understood, its cause is to be abandoned, freedom is to be realized, and there is a path that cultivates freedom.

Ancestor Toni Morrison speaks of freedom similarly in this way:

The presence of evil is something to be first recognized, then dealt with, survived, outwitted, triumphed over.

For the wise, the growing violence among us should ignite a response that ensures "no body" is harmed. While there may not be broad or celebrated victories readily evidenced in our efforts, we still must use our bodies and minds to do everything humanly possible to plant seeds that end racism and support freedom.

We’re not in complete control of situational outcomes, nor can we comprehend the vast and invisible effort and prayers operating on our behalf. I believe that those of us functioning with a strong core are supporting those of us in despair, and those of us in despair are grieving and healing for those of us standing strong - and our experiences change constantly. As Martin Luther King, Jr., shares, "This is the interrelated structure of reality." This is nature at play in the vast skinless body of awareness in which we inescapably belong, and it is our basic goodness at its most holy.

Enjoy the metta of Andra Day singing Rise Up:

The post Grief, Freedom, and the Metta of Andra Day appeared first on RuthKing.net.

I’m inside a spaceship, surrounded by astronauts floating in the sterile, meticulously organized interior of the craft. Their clothing clean and white, the space filled with the hum of technology—wires, Velcro straps securing everything in place. I was one with them, secure, snug in a sense of order. As I turned, I noticed colorful, asteroid-like balls drifting toward me. Curious, I touched one.

Instantly, the scene shifted. The astronauts, having just returned from a successful space mission, were hugging and celebrating. I was there with them, caught up in joy, floating around in weightlessness. It was exhilarating. We were proud in our understanding of our interdependence and triumph. That scene dissolves and I’m once again surrounded by brightly colored balls. I touch one and this time I’m playing ball with the astronauts, running bases in zero gravity, dodging balls. Surreal, unexpected delight.

As that scene faded, I reached out to touch another ball. Suddenly, I was outside the spacecraft, suspended in the vastness of space. The shuttle loomed behind me; doors shut. The Earth beneath me turning, the moon above me still and bright, and I am utterly alone. Panic hit like a silent title wave. My heart raced; knees buckled; my body froze. There was no ground to anchor in. I was suspended, vulnerable, sweaty, breathless, and terrified. My hands wanted to flap so I could fly, but I could not move. I was still, going nowhere fast. Desperate, I began to call out for help. No one comes.

I then wake up but not in the usual sense, as this was not a dream. A gentle hand on my shoulder grounded me, and a kind voice invited me to remove my headset. When I did, I saw immediately that I wasn’t lost or along. But it wasn’t until I took off the headset that I could see the truth of the experience I was having. I, along with roughly 50 others, were in a dark domed room in virtual headsets, with roughly 250 lights on the floor representing the balls of light in the virtual experience. We had all been exploring the vastness of space through "The Infinite," a mind-blowing exhibit based on NASA’s Artemis mission. All of us, people from different walks in life, experiencing surprising versions of reality based on our choices, each immersive experience lasting no more than 30 seconds.

When I took off my virtual headset, I was slapped instantly into reality. Sobered and embarrassed, I wondered why I hadn't thought of taking off the blinders sooner. Some part of me knew I was in an immersive experience; I knew it wasn't real. But in a state of panic, I forgot that I could take my headset off. I forgot that this was an engineered experience. It felt absolute. I was engulfed, concentrated, desperate, overwhelmed. Convinced of what exactly, death? Fear trumped reasoning.

This experience has me reflecting on how often we humans get trapped in our perceptions and fears, convinced that what we see and believe is the whole, lasting, and only truth. Just as people can become absorbed in political views or personal ideologies and panic into absoluteness, we easily can lose ourselves in our beliefs and feel disconnected from reality. My reality in that moment of tightness and panic wasn’t the complete truth—just one experience among many.

Insight is often retrospective. As I grew in feeling more grounded, I realized the depth of this metaphor. We’re all in this dome of life, touching orbs—different experiences, perspectives, and beliefs. In the exhibit, there were over 250 orbs to choose from, yet I had only literally touched a handful of them. Such is life: In any given moment, we are only experiencing parts of an unfolding truth that we are all co-creating, realities we are choosing, all of which are brief and ever changing.

Awareness does not mean we will be panic free. I should know. I attended this exhibit twice and had a similar experience both times! Rather, awareness brings us into starkness with how things are and what's here now, whether it be fear or exhilaration. And it begs the question: Can we weather the humility of intense emotions that flood our body’s nervous system (those 30 hypothetical seconds) when facing realities beyond our conviction, control, or preferences?  Mindfulness practice offers a humbling and necessary reminder to pause, take a deep breath, and to open to the more beyond our proximate panic or fixation. Allow me to repeat: This is a practice!

As we navigate these intense political times of alternative facts, division, uncertainty, and great mystery, it’s helpful to remember that what we perceive as reality is a sliver of truth.  And sometimes, like in my experience, it requires that we take off the virtual headset, or to be willing to explore beyond the orbs we've touched, knowing that greater and more connecting realities are far more dynamic, multidimensional, and galactic than we can imagine.

Our choices in the upcoming election are both complex and clear. Vote in the direction of democracy and don't stop there. Continue to be an active part of a world we can all live and strive in.

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Coming Soon: Scholarships for our Online Academy Courses!

We’re excited to announce that thanks to a generous grant, the Mindful of Race Institute will be offering significant discounts on our Online Academy courses! These scholarships are designed to make our transformative courses more accessible to individuals and communities committed to mindfulness meditation and racial awareness.

Who Should Apply for These Scholarships?

Individuals looking to deepen their personal and professional growth in mindfulness and racial wellbeing.Leaders, activists, and educators aiming to create inclusive, mindful communities.Those facing financial barriers who are eager to access mindfulness and racial awareness training.People involved in community-building efforts that address structural racism and promote healing.Beginners or experienced contemplatives with a passion for learning and serving all races, and beyond race.

Why These Courses Matter!

At the Mindful of Race Institute, we weave mindfulness principles and racial conditioning, helping participants cultivate the awareness needed to engage with the world more wisdom and compassion. These scholarships allow even more individuals to take part in this critical work, expanding our reach to those who need it most.

Don’t Miss Out!

This opportunity is time sensitive. If you’re interested, we invite you to join our waitlist to be notified when the scholarship discounts are available.

Join our waitlist here!

Thank you for being a part of our community as we continue to support racial wellbeing through mindfulness.

With gratitude,

Ruth King, Founder, Mindful of Race Institute

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I grew up playing a card game called bid whist, popular among African Americans. Four people play this game, representing two pairs. The cards are dealt face down and six cards are placed in what is called a kitty. After a review of what has been dealt to you and a wild guess after reading the face of your partner, you either bid or pass on the kitty. You bid when you think you can win the game and that your partner and/or the kitty will somehow have the cards you don’t have. You pass when the cards dealt to you don’t look promising for a win. Sometimes, when you pass, your partner will bid, and between the two of you and the kitty, you win or lose. And sometimes you discover you can pass and still win by playing the cards you were dealt in a smart way against your opponent.

This strategy applies to our relationship to racial distress. You are dealt a situation face down that you can’t ignore. Your partner and the kitty in this game is uncertainty, and you are playing against the opponents of injustice. After looking at your cards, you must determine what action you will take. But here is the crucial turning point: you must decide, because even when you don’t make a choice, you are making a choice.

It is wholesome to be discerning. I acknowledge that using a card-game metaphor may be too casual for the seriousness of race and racism but hang with me for a few more pages. What I am basically attempting to illustrate is that we can’t bid every hand we are dealt—we can’t confront every injustice or address every need—and still stay in balance or in the game.

I once coached a high-profile, forty-two-year-old black woman in corporate America who had been put on several committees to represent the company’s diversity initiative. She felt this was important work and, given her position, that she was the only one who could and should do it. This diversity work was in addition to her demanding job, which included international travel and being away from her husband and two young children. She asked me to support her with balance, which was challenging, as she repeatedly rescheduled our coaching sessions. When we did meet, she was often distracted and anxious about what she had not taken care of. She wanted support, but she didn’t see how it could fit in with her other demands.

On one chilly morning, I received a call from her assistant with the news that my client had had a massive stroke. When I visited her in the hospital, she could not speak, but I could see in her eyes that her cry for recovery was as demanding as her cry of regret. Family and friends surrounded her with love and care, but she never recovered. She passed away five days later.

I was quite disturbed for several weeks. This loss represented a constellation, not a star—not a single incident. Whether its social activism or raising a family, too many of us are harming ourselves. Our habits of mind are often out of proportion to what our body and heart need or can handle. We must be more honest with ourselves and not let our ego deceive us into believing that we can be all things to all people.

Choosing to Bid

As bodies of color, we are dealt unlimited opportunities to challenge racial inequity and harm. For example, if you are having a conflict with a friend or colleague and you want to maintain, or even deepen, the relationship, you bid. You may want to intervene at the individual level and speak directly to the conflict between you. Using the “talking about what disturbs you” guideline (see Chapter 14) could be useful to apply in such situations.

There are times when you will want to address the group identity level and speak to the dominant and subordinated racial dynamics that feed oppression. In such instances, it’s not about you or your feelings, nor is it about what an individual is doing. You are speaking as a racial group member to another racial group or member, and you are acknowledging racial group behavior and patterns of harm. In such situations, you can apply the “six hindrances to racial harmony” (see Chapter 4) as your bid.

Then there are situations that warrant institutional intervention—when individuals or racial groups come together to form a movement or join a cause that addresses systemic and structural racism. Black Lives Matter, MoveOn.org, Indivisible, and the Love Army are some recent examples. We bid when we join groups to support others, share resources, oppose policies and practices that cause racial harm, and propose practices that foster equity and well-being.

The word bid might feel strange or a bit too quirky, but consider this: bid is another word for choosing, saying “yes,” or saying “hell no.” Your partner is uncertainty; you are not in complete control of the outcome, and you are playing to transform racial obstacles—your opponents. To bid is to be open to learning how to play the game more skillfully. You may not always win the game but will inevitably become more aware and become a better player.

Choosing to Pass

Too many of us are out of balance. We overextend without realizing that we live in a body, ignoring the call to be nourished. We must find time to rest from our wounding and from clear seeing, to reflect, and to heal. Yet many POC I speak to feel as though it is a luxury to take a break from the challenges in their lives. Resting is not a betrayal; it is a restorative necessity.

To come into balance is to learn how to pass. We pass when we choose to withdraw effort—to not expend energy outward, to not be on hyper alert twenty-four/seven, and to bring ourselves into balance through a devotion to self-care.

Often, to pass means you learn to rely on your bid whist partner—uncertainty—to carry more of the weight for a while. This requires that you develop a more intimate relationship with uncertainty and with ease.

There are many ways to contemplate a relationship with these mind states. Most spiritual traditions have practices that support such well-being, such as prayer, inspirational readings, songs, wise teachings, or dance. Explore practices that bring you into balance and that support you in strengthening inner resources of well-being.

I encourage bodies of color to attend a Vipassana or insight meditation retreat at least once a year. Within a ten-day retreat structure, through periods of silence, sitting, and walking meditation, we are supported in slowing down and noticing the workings of our heart and mind. We begin to see more clearly the nature of mind, and we experience more inner stability, confidence, and well-being. With practice, we notice increasing moments of release from distress and how freedom is not a destination outside of our own mental creation.

An insight meditation retreat fuels moral reflection. It strengthens our capacity to examine personal and cultural habits of mind and what it is like to release them. It reveals a gradual and natural unveiling of the truth of suffering, and it further supports us in cultivating a heart we can learn to trust and rest in. Knowing these experiences directly is restorative and brings balance to our lives.

When I encourage bodies of color to attend an insight meditation retreat, it is often difficult for us to pause and embrace the idea or to take the time. But rarely is it a waste of time. Many insight retreats are offered freely, while other retreat centers provide scholarship support. As one participant of color shared, “Meditation helps to keep my mind in the present and not ruminate about my past. It helps to calm my mind from obsessive thinking, which leads to anxiety. I’m currently learning how to cope and grieve my current circumstances while still working on gratitude and self-love.”

As POC, it is essential that we know the taste of freedom and pursue it. An African American woman shyly approached me at the end of a ten-day retreat. Her voice was soft when she whispered, “Is it okay to be happy?” Her eyes smiled, and her face was radiant. She said, “In this moment, I’m happier than I have ever been! Is it really okay to allow it?” She was not really looking for an answer, just a witness—a face that looked like hers. We just smiled together, enjoying happiness together, as we looked caringly into each other’s eyes. Insight meditation retreats are one way for us to answer our deepest questions, even the ones that have no answers.

Another way to “pass” is to retreat with each other. Self-organizing a retreat allows us to share our diverse experiences, traditions, and ceremonies and to talk to each other about what hurts and what heals. Too many of us are afraid of looking weak or vulnerable or of being disappointed or feeling unworthy. We worry that in asking for help we are taxing an overtaxed community with one more burden. Such beliefs need to be tested. I know many POC who have received more care than they can bear. In fact, they discovered that although asking for support was difficult, what was more difficult was receiving it. There is much talent among us. Allowing ourselves to be cared for is a practice we can learn to do well. We need not be ashamed of being human.

In exploring how we use our energy—whether we bid or pass—we discover that it is not about either/or rather it is about both/and. We need balance—self-care and engagement. It is a win-win practice.

 

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As an African American lesbian elder and educator of the dharma, I am often challenged by students and teachers who feel that raising social and political issues within the dharma hall is inappropriate if not distracting from practice. I often will hear: I’m here to work on my mind, to be free from suffering. But we must ask: To what end when suffering in the world is urgent, threatening, and horrendous for so many of us. To acknowledge social injustice and systems of power is not to take sides or to invite a debate, to organize, or to solve systemic problems. It is more the naming of harm that is all around us and an invitation to wisely support practitioners in working with the stimulation and distress it creates within us and especially our response to it.

The Buddha specialized in the end of suffering and the embrace of peace. Surely there is room in our practice for acknowledgement and exploration of how we meet the complexities of our time both on and off the cushion with wise care. Relevant to this topic is John Welwood, Buddhist Psychologists, who coined the term Spiritual Bypassing in the early 80’s:

I coin the term [spiritual bypass] to describe a process I saw happening in the Buddhist community and also in myself… We often use the goal of awakening to rationalize what I call premature transcendence – trying to rise above the raw and messy side of our humanness… before we have fully faced it and made peace with it… I see this as an occupational hazard of the spiritual path. It leads to a conceptual one-sided spirituality: Ultimate truth is favored over Relative truth; emptiness over form; transcendence over embodiment; detachment over feeling.

As a spiritual leader, I generally will approach teaching in two ways: (1) offering my understanding of what the Buddha taught using my lived experience and practice as an example, and; (2) talking about my life and how the dharma supports my understanding of belonging to both the challenges and beauty experienced near and far.

I feel responsible for speaking up when my heart is pinched by social injustice and political oppression; to not collude in silence or neutralize the suffering that rains upon masses of people by down playing the heat of the obvious. My talks often and naturally include an invitation to investigate the worldly winds of social corruption and innocence, wisdom and irrationality, distance and intimacy, and receptivity and force – to examine our part in its harm and healing. It is not uncommon for me in a dharma talk to specifically name the social and power challenges impacting ethical and global wellbeing, for example, the systemic oppression and suffering in Gaza and Sudan, not to mention the pressing threat of civil uprising within the United States, and invite practitioners to examine their relationship and kinship to what leads to harm and what leads to its release. From this base of exploration and understanding flows a natural, responsible, and compassionate response to social suffering - or at least, this is my prayer.

Many Buddhist communities have called for more social understanding and engagement, most notably the work of Venerable Thich Nhat Hanh and Plum Village as well as the Buddhist Peace Fellowship. Many Black Buddhist teachers would find it hard pressed not to speak of social issues when teaching as illustrated in these top selling publications: Black & Buddhist: What Buddhism can teach us about resilience, transformation, and freedom edited by Giles & Yetunde; Black Buddhists and the Black Radical Tradition: The practice of stillness in the movement for liberation by Rima Vesely-Flad; and Joyously Just: Black Wisdom & Buddhist Insights for Liberated Living by Dr. Kamilah Majied. The recent offering by the Social Justice Coalition, an international coalition of dharma teachers, leaders, and sangha members, calling for a dharma response to Gaze, is another important resource for social practice and global wellbeing, as well as earth and climate activists Ayya Santacitta of Aloka Earth Room, and Thanissara’s seminal publication Time to Stand Up: An engaged Buddhist manifesto for our earth – The Buddha’s Life and Message from feminine eyes. 

There is no limit to suffering throughout the world, nor is there a limit to our collective good will. We will all see and serve differently, hopefully with a moral compass of seeing ourselves in those we judge and taking action with an intent to not cause harm.

Wherever you see fit to serve, your wise and embodied offerings are needed. I believe that if we can stay close to the pain of social suffering; if we were, for example, to embrace that every death was our child, perhaps we could be more curious than critical, more collectively courageous and less afraid to connect to social distress and thus to a full-bodied and interdependent fact of our lives.

If I didn’t belong to you, I wouldn’t be here

If you didn’t belong to me, you wouldn’t have come

Your liberation is tied to my liberation

My liberation is tied to your liberation

and Your heart and My heart are very old friends

May all beings be free from suffering

Ruth King

Learn more:

Mindful of Race 101 - On Demand Training

Mindful of Race: Transforming Racism from the Inside Out

The post Awakening Together: Embracing Social Justice in the Dharma Hall appeared first on RuthKing.net.

Nothing in life is Personal, Permanent, or Perfect!

Liberative insight is the core practice of insight (Vipassana) meditation, or mindfulness meditation. The distinction of insight meditation from other forms of meditation is that we’re investigating the nature of our existence, of phenomenon, and of our activity of mind, in order to liberate ourselves from suffering. 

There are three characteristics core to Buddhist practice: anatta (not-self), dukkha (suffering or dissatisfaction), our anicca (impermanence). My shorthand way of talking about these three characteristics is to say: Nothing in life is personal, permanent, and not perfect. 

Not Personal:

As we get still and begin to observe our inner experiences, we can see that the aggregates of this body are a series of processes that are always in motion. There are sense organs and sense objects: The eyes see, the tongue tastes, the body feels, the ears hear, the nose smells, and the mind thinks. Unaware of this truth, we are in a constant state of “I-making” — I, me, mine — fixation and exaggeration. But when we settle in stillness and turn our attention inward to know our experience more intimately, we can look at how that process works and recognize its impersonal nature. What’s happening is not personal — its nature!   

Not Permanent:

In mindfulness practice, to examine impermanence is to notice rather immediately, as in the moment we close our eyes, that everything that is happening changes; that what arises in our experience also passes away. Just like a filmstrip, we have these mental clips, but when they run together fast, we have a movie. Unaware, we believe the movie as solid truth. But with practice, we can slow down and see each clip and how it arises and passes away. And we can also see the emptiness in between and within the clips. To know directly the arising and passing away of experience — the solidity of experience and its dissolve — is liberative. We touch into an open field of awareness that experiences live within — a field we can begin to trust and abide. What’s happening is not permanent — it’s nature. 

Not Perfect:

The not-perfect or the dukkha aspect of this practice is foundationally important. How sobering it is to realize directly that anything can happen to us at any time. There are so many ways that we're vulnerable in these bodies. We experience creation, joy, brilliance, and love, and we are of the nature to grow old, to become ill, and to die. And things that we have and love, we will lose. We’re not in control of our thoughts, for example, but we do have control over whether they contribute to more distress or freedom. We’re not in control of when illness strikes, but we are in control over our response and over whether we suffer unnecessarily in the midst of it. We can’t control what life throws on our path, but we can control our relationship and our response. And as we understand ourselves more deeply as seed selves in co-creation with our world, we ripen our capacity to become more sensitive to and responsible for our impact on collective wellbeing. What happens is not perfect - Things going our way AND not going our way is our nature. How we respond is our future. 

***

Insight meditation, or Vipassana, focuses on achieving liberative insight by examining the nature of existence, phenomena, and mental processes to overcome suffering. Central to this Buddhist practice are three principles: anatta (not-self), dukkha (suffering or dissatisfaction), and anicca (impermanence), summarized by the idea that nothing in life is personal, permanent, or perfect. Learn more in my online self-study course, A Beginner's Guide for Meditating with Race.

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Why I said Genocide & How we move forward together.

Dear friends,

I deeply appreciate the comments I have received from my last blog post, those of you who felt affirmed and particularly those of you who questioned my use of the term genocide. To engage in a semantic debate on the use of the term genocide would not be as useful as sharing a bit more context around what compelled my writing and inviting all of us to keep learning.

The word genocide rolled effortlessly off my tongue. Perhaps it’s because the images of bombing defenseless men, women and children are ceaseless and heart shattering. Perhaps as a 75-year-old African American woman and descendant of chattel slavery and continued systemic oppression in this country, I recognize the pain pattern of dominance and subordination and intent and impact in what’s happening, as described in my book Mindful of Race: Transforming racism from the Inside Out, and I know the generational impact and hate-fuel of such harm. Another reason perhaps is the chilling Al Jazeera read: the International Court of Justice (ICJ) hears South Africa’s genocide case against Israel over Gaza war in the International Court of Justice, reporting on “…an 84-page document with the court detailing acts it says amount to genocide in Gaza. Another influence in the use of this term genocide was a report commissioned by the United Nations which headlines “A top U.N. court says Gaza genocide is ‘plausible’ but does not order cease-fire.” My perspective was further informed by Tim Wise’s critique on this conflict. Mr. Wise, who is Jewish, is a respected author on antiracism and a professional who understands systems and structural racism. Drawing from this, my life’s work in understanding and dismantling racism, and other sources, some of which are intuitive, my soul cried out in my blog to all people of compassion to broaden understanding.

I’m still learning, but here’s what I know: The senseless murder of tens of thousands by any other name would be just as awful. The Webster definition of genocide may have one definition, but it has many meanings. Instead of a semantic debate, I invite us all to turn our attention toward considering what compassion and wise action would look like as we hold in our hearts the children, women, and men who are dying of starvation, living in rubble and squalor while still being bombed. We can do more than witness in disgust or judgment the widespread loss of life, systemic deprivation, obstruction of aid, and egregious violations of human rights. I would like to also believe that supporting Gaza is not interpreted as antisemitic, but I may not have this luxury. My karmic responsibility is to understand and tend to the profound repercussions such atrocities have on the global well-being of present and future generations – one act and ouch at a time.

Please know that I recognize that there are massive senseless deaths all over the world happening today, in Haiti, Sudan and Congo and many other places. And I do not condone the October 7 killing of innocent people in Israel. I send my prayers and compassion to all those who suffer, including ourselves, as no suffering of our fellow beings fails to impact us.

If your heart weeps like mine, please join me for the kick-off of the series of Gather for Gaza, hosted by Dr. Kamilah Majied, author of the new release, Joyfully Just: Black Wisdom and Buddhist Insights for Liberated Living on April 26, from 11:00 am to 12:30 pm ET. This series is aimed at resourcing and educating all of us who are interested in supporting the Palestinian people. In this first session, we will offer supportive practices and resources to nourish your heart and mind as we discuss what is happening in Gaza. We plan to incorporate music and inspiration for wise activism, peace, and justice. I hope you will join us. Click here to reserve your spot!

May you be safe and well – May we all be safe and well.

In kindness, Ruth King

 

The post Why Genocide appeared first on RuthKing.net.

There is a genocide occurring of innocent people in Palestine, not to mention in many parts of the world. Have you noticed? Can you feel it? Then what? 

What’s happening in Palestine is horrific and, sadly, not new or uncommon to see greed, hatred, and delusion manifest at a raw and vile extreme through cooperative power and supremacy. It’s about race, it’s about history, it’s about the right to belong, and it’s about creating a healing response.

This soul loss and injustice represent a spiritual urgency that calls us to question the  idea of our shared humanity. Is it shared? At what cost? This real-time and painful crisis calls us to deepen our understanding, expand self-awareness, broaden perspectives, and to take wise action. No one has all-inclusive answers, but perhaps, if we haven’t already, we can begin by taking a few steps. 

Take Care of Yourself

How are you relating to this genocide? How much do you understand about it? Are your convictions about what is happening shutting you down or blocking a broader perspective? Mindfulness meditation serves as a vital tool to pause and soften into a deeper understanding of your relationship to the racial horrors of our time. Rather than reactionary measures or attachment to  views, you learn to settle and tend to your thoughts and emotions with care. You gain insight into your internal processes and habits of mind that support both harm and healing. With practice, you cultivate forbearance, enabling a greater capacity to respond to racial complexity with greater ease, comprehension, and impact.

Despite the temptation to react, you can notice your impulses and rewire your nervous system to ride the waves of intense emotion and confusion until you settle into a clearing that supports an appropriate response. To support this practice, listen to our free webinar: Let’s Talk About Race: How to deal with emotional distress. 

Take Care of Each Other 

Invite one or two people to join you in exploring these social horrors with curiosity and care. Breaking silence, sharing how we are impacted, and discussing ways to support and respond are vital to resilience and a felt sense of belonging. You may not be able to solve the problems, but you can be heard and supported, and feel more connected while deepening your understanding. Gathering with such intention is a powerful intervention, as it establishes a felt sense of belonging and a foundation for wise and collective action. We benefit from each other’s oops, ouches, and good-heartedness, and we plant wholesome seeds that will bloom in service to our collective wellbeing. To support this practice, take our online course: Six Hindrances to Racial Harmony. 

Take Care of our World 

A wise person once said: They may not live next door, but they are your neighbors. The bottom line: Genocide must stop! Again, warfare is nothing novel, though undeniably savage. It’s a systemic power disease intertwined with the unconscious, nuanced, and emboldened ways we have been conditioned to perceive and impact each other and the planet in our daily lives. 

How we vote and how we serve has a wide-ranging impact on the daily lives of many near and far. How aware are you of your impact? Our actions and choices must reflect an aspiration of global wellbeing. War is also not solely outside of ourselves. Our warring thoughts and actions are seeds of consciousness and should be recognized, questioned, and redirected to ensure wholesome blooms. To support this practice, reflect on the Seven Questions posted by poet and musician Joy Harjo, from “For those who would govern.”

Can you first govern yourself?What is the state of your own household?Do you have a proven record of community service and compassionate acts?Do you know the history and laws of your principalities?Do you follow sound principles? Look for fresh vision to lift all the inhabitants of the land, including animals, plants, elements, all who share this earth?Are you owned by lawyers, bankers, insurance agents, lobbyists, or other politicians, anyone else who would unfairly profit by your decisions?Do you have authority from the original keepers of the lands, those who obey natural law and are in the service of the lands on which you stand?

These times may feel overwhelming and, granted, we may never fully understand the complexity of war, but we are not powerless. We are responsible for the world and this planet, not just for our own comfort, fears, or needs. We can be committed to eliminating hate within ourselves and in our actions. We must make it our business to understand our interdependence and be judiciously informed of how the global power systems of hatred function in order to have an immediate, broad, and generational impact on care and healing. This is both challenging and necessary. 

When mindfulness becomes our focus and our medicine, we can experience a profound sense of belonging, allowing us to stay present and true to our core values and virtues. This dedication nurtures our ability to interact with the world while remaining rooted in the recognition of our shared humanity and the essential principle of non-harm.

~ Ruth King

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